January 25
by chocomelly
Summary: Mello pays one last visit to SPK Headquarters to tell Near goodbye forever.  Subtle MelloxNear


**Authors note: **I don't own Death Note. OBVIOUSLY ff.

I've always been in love with Mello and Near /sob. I definitely ship them, but I wanted to keep it somewhat subtle in this fic. As for the significance of the title, this piece takes place on January 25, the day before Mello kidnaps Takada (Spoiler Alert- better known as the day of Matt and Mello's deaths).

This is my first ever fanfic, so I'm really nervous about it. I hope I did well and portrayed them properly! Thanks for reading. Reviews are much appreciated.

**January 25**

The metal doors crooned as they slid open, shutting and locking behind him with a low secure hiss. He stepped forward into the dimly lit room, soon enveloped in its cold, clinical atmosphere. Heeled boots clicked, reverberating lightly with every step, as he approached the figure in the center of the room. Hunched over in the center of the floor, surrounded by various toys and abnormally intricate towers of stacked dice, was a boy two years his junior—his proclaimed adversary. He was facing away from his visitor, bathed in the numbing bright light of the array of screens before him which illuminated his snow white hair in an eerie blue halo, and cast an ominous shadow on the floor behind him. Seconds ticked by slowly but the boy did not turn; he remained transfixed upon his dice.

"Near," the intruder snarled somewhat impatiently.

"Mello," murmured Near, all-too-patiently, turning to face him only after he had spoken. He hugged his knees comfortably to his chest and looked up.

Mello took another step forward, "Surprised to see me?" the corners of his lips twitched slightly upward, resisting a smile.

"No, not really," the monotonicity of his words was delicately lined with curiosity. He hadn't anticipated such a visit from Mello, that much was true, but he wasn't in the least bit surprised that he was here. Near had rationally acknowledged that Mello was indisputably capable of infiltrating SPK headquarters.

Mello grit his teeth and widened his stance. It would have been easy for him to lose his temper, but he held it back. Hatred and other incomprehensible feelings surged through his veins and boiled within him. He would have easily been considered a genius in any world but Near's, but fate had permanently woven their worlds together.

The unsociable boy's sunken eyes flitted inattentively to Mello's feet, and back up to his face. Somehow his eyes never seemed to waver from Mello's, in spite of the twisted disfigured scar which wound its way up the left hemisphere of his face.

To Mello's delight, he noticed Near was experiencing a rare moment of uncertainty. He could tell that Near had no idea what he had come for, and that pleased him. However, Near didn't seem to mind not knowing. Mello would have liked for his rival to be less at peace with this indecision, but it lightened his mood nonetheless.

"I know that we hate each other," Mello began.

"I've never said I hated you, Mello." interrupted Near.

"Whatever. Fine. You look down on me, anyway." Mello spat these words with cold resentment, fingernails indenting his palm through the leather as he tightly curled his fist.

Near sighed as he twirled a snow colored ringlet around his thumb and forefinger, "Please refrain from putting words into other people's mouths."

"Shut up, Near," Mello snapped, "I'm trying to talk."

Near obliged, looking up at him in patient reticence.

Mello's jaw tightened. He didn't know how else to lead into what he wanted to say, so he said it outright. "You can't defeat Kira on your own."

"Of course not," Near replied simply, continuing to absently twirl his hair, "Without L as our predecessor all of our efforts would be futile."

It was true, but it wasn't what he had been driving at. "Look, I know that." he muttered bitterly.

"But L failed." Near added blankly.

Mello's nonexistent patience was hanging by a thread, "Hey, don't talk about L like that."

Near was silent again, his sharp eyes unwavering. The hot-headed blonde came closer and knelt before Near, the leather material of his pants whistling lightly as it came into contact with the smooth flooring. impulsively he raised his hand, ready to roughly grab a hold of Near's collar, but he stopped himself suddenly, letting the hand fall limply to the floor.

"Shut up," he hissed, well aware that Near had said nothing, "I don't just mean L." Angrily, he shoved his face intrusively towards Near's, forcing the boy's unyielding eyes to momentarily succumb to the distractions of Mello's horrendous scar.

"You need me." Mello's words were resolute.

"It's possible…" Near spoke softly but soundly, "No…it's exceedingly likely…that the Kira case will remain unsolved without our cooperation."

"Don't make it sound like it was your idea," Mello glared, "I know that. Why do you think I'm here?"

Near stared back at him in comprehensive silence.

None of this was easy for Mello. His blood was burning in his veins every second that they were in one other's wake. Their eyes searched each other; it was unbearable. He was a fallen angel, reaching begrudgingly up to heaven, while somewhere in the middle, God (or could he be better described as the Devil?) was laughing at them.

Even Mello wasn't too blinded by smoldering envy and resentment to know who, between the two of them, was more likely to succeed in finding and defeating Kira. Mello in all probability couldn't, but with his help, Near could. If it meant the fall of Kira and avenging L, Mello would have to be satisfied with that.

He had already accepted this. But he wouldn't go out without establishing his absolute necessity to Near.

"Tomorrow…" he started, but he didn't need to finish. The light was on. Near suddenly understood. Even if he had continued speaking, Mello would have lost all words at the look of surprise in Near's eyes.

They had at last reached a mutual awareness. He would die. It was almost incontrovertibly certain.

"Mello…" it was Near's turn to trail off. His voice faltered, though only slightly. It was enough for Mello to notice.

He should have been ecstatic. He should have reveled in this wonderful reaction from Near,this delightful new once-in-a-lifetime expression. He should have celebrated that perhaps the last look he would ever see on the face of his rival was such a one of priceless astonishment—but he couldn't. Mello felt suddenly sick to his stomach. His lungs seemed to fill with lead, and his heart contorted into a heavy knot.

Mello leaned closer, bowing his head. Pale blonde hair fell over his face, hiding his painful expression. His lips hovered hypnotically over the crook of Near's collarbone, his hot breath grazing the boy's skin before rising in the cold air. Near was still.

Slowly Mello lifted his gloved hands, curling them in the air in preparation about Near's neck. They fastened themselves over the exposed flesh in muted subtle movements, until at last they were constricted around him in a pseudo-chokehold light as angel feathers.

It was a gesture of love and hate, tenderness and desperation, resentment and covetousness. The boy was the object of his every emotion. He was his brother, his friend, his worst enemy, his lover.

There was only Near. There was never anything but. Mello had given him everything now, even his life.

Abruptly, Mello released him and stood, turning brusquely as he made haste for the door. His hands ran slowly over the door frame, the thin leather sliding with ease over the cool chrome, until it slid open at last.

"Sayonara, Near."

And like that, he was gone forever.


End file.
